


Political Animals

by japastiel



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Blood Kink, Canon-Typical Violence, Coming Untouched, M/M, Misuse of the Force, Murder, PWP, Senator Ben Organa, Smut, Violence, senator au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-02 02:39:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6547258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/japastiel/pseuds/japastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux isn’t sure if he wants to deep throat or deep six the defected new republic senator, but he is glad Senator Ben Organa-Amidala, aka Kylo Ren is on his side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Foul Prey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> General Hux seeks a private audience with Senator Ben Amidala-Organa

There is a moment of sheer panic as Hux settles in, lounging on the luxurious sofa in the middle of the senator’s private apartment. He looks out the soaring window panels and sees that they overlook the park and uptown skyline. One of the most coveted views in the capital city. He tightens his mouth into a thin smile and watches the bubbles in his priceless vintage champagne rise to the surface of his elegant crystal glass. He shouldn't care or be in any way surprised that the most beloved senator has a nicer apartment than him. This probably isn't even his most luxurious property, Hux nods and smiles, accepting the offered drink with prim gloved fingers prickling with jealousy.

 

Senator Ben Amidala-Organa is famous and well liked, the people’s champion. He’s usually introduced over public holovids as the voice of a new generation of democracy-- Face of the New Republic. General Hux however, is not. He’s the underground echo of the past. Dishing out old imperial secrets as he sees fit. The stingy voice of reason: not popular but aiding the greater good nonetheless.

 

To most, the space would appear austere and cluttered. But Hux can see passed the dark stained walls and high mismatched shelves. Cluttered with knickknacks and other sentiment from his illustrious family. A rare stack of books-- probably inherited and priceless-- hold messy piles of work items and data pads in place. Nothing neat. Nothing organized. But everything has meaning. History.

 

Ben Organa’s living space tells a story about who he is. He is all too often regarded as a walking piece of history himself. The most recent member of the infamous Amidala-Skywalker family. Born to rule, born to fall. Every bit of him is priceless and provocative to Hux-- a born observer. The Senator isn’t of interest because of his charming public persona-- his senators appointment or even the scandalous rumors. But because of who Hux suspects he is under the unflappable composure he wears like a second skin.

 

Ben must see Hux looking-- taking the room in. Drinking him in. If Hux’s intuition is right, and it usually is, the sleek lace and polished leather is a lie, Ben Organa is just as quietly messy and haphazard as his chosen space, “General. That’s a fine champagne you aren’t drinking.” His eyes crinkle at the corners up into a sloe-eyed smirk and takes another sip from his own glass, “I know you said you weren’t here on official business, but I have to ask, what did I do to deserve the pleasure of a private visit?”

 

“Honestly?” Hux sets his glass on the table and stands without drinking, rebuttoning the clasp on his formal jacket. He ignores his desire to look further, to indulge himself and spend one more day getting to know Ben Organa, “Senator, to be honest--”

 

“Don’t be too honest with me General, I might start believing you.” Ben takes a long sip of his wine.

 

Hux bites back a rueful smile, “Okay, Senator Organa I--”

 

“Ben.” He corrects, “If you feel comfortable enough for a late night visit to my private apartment, I think you can call me Ben.”

 

“Ben,” Hux likes the way the simple name spills off his lips a bit too much given his task at hand. “I’m here because I wanted to pay you a visit. To get to know you. Without all the disquiet of the formal senate and politics. For personal reasons only.”

 

“I find it hard to believe that you would be here of your own volition for anything above-board.” Ben narrows his wary eyes-- staring daggers through thick lashes. A talent he would have learned from his same-eyed grandmother if she lived long enough to teach him the skill. Instead it was a well-known rumor that it was simply a family trait passed down through the politically inclined members of his family.

 

“So you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t apologize for being suspicious of you, General. And in case you hadn’t noticed we are still in the political capital. In my senate complex apartment. It’s quite busy with the bustle of politics, even at this late hour. We aren’t ever free or alone.”

 

Hux crooks his mouth into an almost smile at Ben’s nervous hand running through his normally impeccably styled hair-- now hanging in loose waves at his shoulders. Hux is gambling on his instincts being right. Over the past few weeks he’s established a tense accord with the Senator-- letting strategically placed rumors of his interest weave their way to his ears. _Of course I would be interested in courting the senator. He is lovely._ Bits of truth being tangled with his lies made it more convincing and finding himself entranced by the young politician he isn't sure who was more convinced by his deception. 

 

So far no one had suspected his double agency-- the Supreme Leader had sent him specifically for this task and his two month time limit was nearly at an end. The trade agreement would go to vote tomorrow-- but only if Organa was present to propose it.

 

Hux approaches him slowly and with every step closer the room around them seems to darken, like someone could be hiding in the side wings dimming the room for dramatic effect. The remaining warm light glitters perfectly through strand upon strand of Ben’s thick raven hair and over the gloss slick of his lips. Hux would never admit that he was glad to see the senator without his typical intricate ornamentation and clothing.

 

Not that the revealing black lace robes he’s wearing are anything but distracting.

 

Hux takes the glass from Ben’s fingers and places it on the tall shelf next to him. He tips his chin up, barely brushing his lips across the sensitive part of Ben’s ear, “I think you already know why I’m here senator.“

 

Hux doesn't make a habit of touching other people and always marvels at the softness of their skin, even if it is the skin of someone who wears their good natured persona like a warm winter coat tucked softly around the jagged edges underneath.

 

“I do. More than you know.”

 

Hux’s lips are barely lingering over the hot fluttering pulse in Ben’s neck that could easily be mistaken for nervous fear. “No need to be frightened.” Hux means the words to sound soft and reassuring but they spill over his lips predatory and low like a hungry threat.  

 

“My dear general,” Ben purrs, his breath drenched with a low hypnotic buzz as his breath blows over Hux’s pricked skin, “I’m not the one who needs to be scared.” Hux can feel Ben's pulse even out, slow and steady when three things happen at once.

 

The door explodes.

 

Hux’s whip flash grip is around the sheathed long blade he kept concealed in his jacket in seconds. The sharp end is sinking satisfactorily into Ben’s side, unfortunately missing all his vital organs. A second blow will be necessary to kill him.

 

But Hux doesn’t get the chance as the space around him goes thick with a soft humming pressure he mistakes as a shock wave from the blast. He can still breathe, just barely, but he can’t move at all. Frozen in place. Hux catches the stern, wide gaze of Ben’s fury on him as he pulls the weapon free from between his ribs. Mistake number one. Leaving it in would have prevented the sluggish gush of blood dripping to the elegant carpet. Ben doesn’t seem to care at all that his side is ripped open or that his priceless rug is ruined.

 

Hux expects the blade to sink into his chest-- or neck. Dead either way. What he doesn’t expect is to be dead wrong. Ben’s second mistake is throwing said blade through the chest of the first of the New Republic soldiers storming through the blast hole where the door had been moments earlier. Now only twenty nine weapons are pointed at them, cocked and ready to fire on command. One less isn’t going to change their chances of survival. 

 

Hux silently thanks whatever maker is in favor of republic bureaucracy as the squad leader presses the button on his shoulder comm and informs his commander slowly, “We have him in our sights commander. General Hux is also here. Advise. Over.”

 

Hux picks up that he isn’t their target at all, they seem to be focused entirely on the senator. Before he can refocus his train of thought on an escape plan where he doesn't end up dead, Hux watches Ben sway on unsteady legs as he raises his arm to dangle half the squadron in mid air above their discarded weapons.

 

The side of his body oozing with blood begins to shake in time with the unaffected soldiers, trigger fingers hovering on their blasters. The man on the floor in a pool of his own blood is definitely dead.

 

Hux realizes that they are effectively surrounded, outnumbered fifteen to one and he is, for once, confused. Helpless.

 

”Take them both in, they’re both suspected spies for the First Order.” A disembodied voice hisses over the comm in reply.

 

 _What?! Both First Order spies..._ Hux looks desperately towards Ben hoping that the invisible hold he has on him will convey his feelings, _Let me go, if what he said is true, we have to help each other to get out of this. We’re on the same side._ He feels the air around him loosen, his chest expands with the new found ability to take a full breath. Ben staggers, nearly losing his grip on the solders as he releases Hux. The unlucky men in Ben’s grip are all writhing, tense in the invisible shackles Ben holds them in. Abruptly, they all slump lifeless after a spine snapping pop and slam against the front wall with the barest flick of his wrist.

 

Once free and fully aware of the gravity of their situation, Hux’s grabs Ben by his chest, slapping his hand to the oozing wound in Ben’s ribs. He stops the blood flow as much as possible while backing them towards the balcony-- the only available escape route he can see. Hux dodges the first blaster bolts unnecessarily, Ben keeps his open hand outstretched and inexplicably prevents the wavering blue streaks from moving, leaving them hanging in midair as Hux pulls them around the corner on the outside landing platform.

 

Hux presses his now ruined gloved hands tighter, soaking up more blood and regrets stabbing anyone for the first time in his life. He’s annoyed that he didn’t consider the possibility of the other side of Ben Organa’s family-- the force sensitives. But why would a force user choose to be a politician when-- and the realization dawns on him. _Both double agents_.

 

The rumors of the mysterious First Order knights come back full force. Hux clenches his jaw and tried to not dwell on his mistake of injuring the man with the talent that-- if he hadn’t been wounded would have provided them with the easiest way out. The rich iron scent of blood taints the air as his fingers grow slicker-- tacky with blood.

 

 _This is entirely your fault, if you hadn’t stabbed me--_ Hux hears the words in his head, like his own thoughts but in another not-yet-familiar voice “What-- are you? Are you thinking in my head?” He looks up at the blaster bolts shoot free from Ben’s force-grip through the open door, the ones that don’t shoot through the open door shake the inside of the wall Hux has them pressed into. “So it is true. The Force.”

 

He watches Ben’s eyes open, his teeth grinding together out of what Hux could easily mistake as pain-- but he can feel the ire radiating off him like a dying sun, “Of course it is you moron. Isn’t that why you’re here to murder me?”

“No. I was sent. Because you were starting the talks for the treaty for galactic free trade agreement-- the one directly in opposition with the First Order.”

 

“Snoke? Snoke sent you?” Ben asks hurriedly, waving his free hand towards the door, tightening his fist and leaving several soldiers dead in a bloodless pile. “I can’t hold them much longer.”

 

Hux takes Ben’s hand in his and presses it hard into his side, “Hold this. As hard as you can. Don’t die on me.”

 

He stands and pulls a custom blaster from his belt and rips his soaked glove off with his teeth, blood smearing across his lips in the process, dripping down his chin.

 

“That's the stupidest design I’ve ever seen. Why would you code it with your fingerprint if you wear gloves--” Ben lurches off the wall, looking around quickly and rips Hux’s thick webbed utility belt from his hips and cinches it quickly around his ribs, staunching the flow of blood.

 

Hux edges around the corner, hitting three soldiers in the chest with his blaster only to find himself pulled back by his collar, behind Ben who’s summoning the long blade front the front of the room. Hux’s eyes widen as the well balanced handle flies through the open door hitting Ben’s palm dead center. “Snoke sent you on a suicide mission. I’ve been training with him for nearly a year. You were set up. And so was I, apparently.”

 

Hux furrows his brows and fires three more shots but only one lands in his target. He swivels on his heel narrowly dodging an array of blaster fire aimed for his head. “Training? For what?” Hux plays dumb, wanting to hear the truth from the source.

 

“A secret force-trained assassination division.” Ben holds out his hand again, “But you already knew about The Knights.”

 

Without warning the squad leader lurches forward, boots dragging across the ruined, blood stained carpet swiftly into Ben’s open hand, neck first. Ben grins manically, blood between his teeth, only to shove the vibroblade hilt deep into his chest and twist as slow as he can manage. Looking over his shoulder in a show of immense power as he pulls the blade through thick bone and sinew. _I told you I wasn’t the one who should be afraid._

 

Hux readily agrees as he watches Ben drop the corpse into the growing pile of bodies at the doorway. The hilt now jammed out at a grotesque angle from the middle of the squad leaders sternum. Hux momentarily slumps against the doorway, not accustomed to such raw brutality. The blood doesn't bother him, and theoretically violence doesn't either. But paired together less than a meter away, he's not entirely certain that he’s a man made for war.

 

He would have taken a moment in any other situation to appreciate the senator's long delicate fingers pulling his robe up his lean leg, but the lightsaber clipped to an ornate thigh holster is far more captivating. Only to be swiftly outdone by the quick flash of red light slashing and decapitating two more soldiers. The execution is over before Hux can fully digest what he’s witnessing.

 

Hux stands dumbly, useless, as the last two soldiers stand just as still-- defeated by a much more dangerous target than previously anticipated. Ben disengages his saber and clips it back under his robe. He smiles at them, a sinister neat thing, staring them down unwaveringly despite being winded and wounded. He curls his hand into a knuckle popping fist at his side and one of the two solders slumps dead to the floor in a bone crunching heap. The other is obviously considering running, Hux can see his toes twitching in his boots.

 

“Do you want to live?” Ben asks, syrupy sweet and insincere. But the soldier is desperate for any hope that he will live and nods. He probably has a family, loved ones, friends. Hux never considers the life he’s taking away from the enemies he kills, but now, watching the scene before him play out like a holovid-- he can see it. The raw brutality of battle.

 

Ben leans in and whispers something in the man's ear, too quiet for Hux to hear. The solder nods, uneven with jittery bones. He pulls his comm from his belt and types out a quick message-- Ben watching his fingers work rabbit quick. He bites his lower lip between his teeth, the pink tip of his tongue darting out playfully before he nods, “Good. Good. Thank you for that. I really appreciate it.”

 

Ben then does the most violent thing Hux has ever witnessed. His lip curls in the most elegant snarl as he whips the man head first into the nearest wall hard enough to crack chunks of painted duracrete loose. He rolls his shoulders before coiling his deadly fingers into the webbing at the front of his military vest and throws him back into the ruined wall before cradling him in close by his lolling head.

 

If the solder wasn’t already loose limbed and dying, the way Ben coils his neck around the broken man would have made Hux sick with jealousy. “I need you to do one more thing for me.” Ben snuggs his nose sensually slow into the crook of the man’s ear, nuzzling the river of blood pouring from his ear, inhaling the rich iron, “can you do that?” He poses it sweetly, like a question he expects to be answered.

 

The look of serenity falls across Ben’s face in slow motion-- in direct contrast with the heartbeat fast forward skip of the Force push spray of blood against the wall. Hux feels sick for two reasons, one that he just witnessed a man being exsanguinated and two that he’s never been more turned on in his entire life-- while watching a man being exsanguinated.

 

He swallows the bile rising thick in his throat and sees that the blood spells out two words. Meaningless words he's heard in hushed tones coming and going from the Supreme Leader’s chambers. It’s never been his job to ask questions-- but his curiosity finally gets the better of him.

 

“What is that?” Hux finally moves, slipping his blaster back into his side holster. “Kylo Ren?”

 

“Who.” Ben corrects neatly, while almost undetectably staggering on his feet, “What you mean is ‘Who is Kylo Ren?’.”

 

Hux looks between the former senator and the wall, “You?”

 

Ben-- _Kylo_ , rolls his eyes, in a mocking way that only slightly conceals his ghostly blood loss pallor, “Of course me.” He lets his mouth hang slightly open, considering more backbiting words. 

 

“We need to clean that.” Hux looks down at the gaping puncture wound and finds himself backed easily by limp cold hands into the wall. He goes easily, willingly finding that he likes being caged between Kylo’s long blood soaked legs. His hands pinned to the wall under his thin ironfist grip.

 

“Ben-- Kylo?” the skin around his throat tightens while both of Kylo’s hands are still bruising fingerprints into his his wrists. The phantom pressure on his skin is warm and altogether terrifying, “We aren’t going anywhere unless you want to. I’m not going to hurt you.” He looks steadily into Ben’s eyes and visualizes himself in a yielding stance-- hands up and unarmed, and that he has a bacta foam dispenser in his jacket. Without warning he falls back to his feet, catching himself before he ends up on his knees.

 

Being this close to Kylo is like soothing a spooked animal back from the brink of hysteria. Hux is visibly peeved when Kylo snarls and backs away when Hux reaches into his jacket for the bacta.

 

“I’m fine. And you wouldn't need to fix me if you hadn't-- I don’t need your help.”

 

Hux purses his lips, “You are not fine. You’re blood is--” he waves his hands at the whole of Kylo’s body, “--everywhere. And I know-- if i hadn’t stabbed you.” He doesn't bother to apologize as he pulls the small packet from the inside of his jacket-- antiseptic and wound sealant. “This will hold till you can get it properly looked at.”

 

Kylo exhales viciously and nods. Hux rips the packet open with his teeth and covers the stab wound with the foam-bacta inelegantly. Kylo sinks his fingers into the tired muscle at the back of Hux’s arms as the foam seals into a gel bacta patch, stinging the wound as it cleans and settles. Kylo opens his eyes and hones his lazer hard gaze directly on Hux, molding his fingers around the delicate tendons and muscles straining in Hux’s neck.

 

He guides them back, through the bodies littering the floor, passed the ruined blood soaked sofa, to the shelf still holding his half full glass of wine. He downs it one go. “Now. Before we were so rudely interrupted, I believe you were about to suggest something.”

 

Hux goes rigid when Kylo swipes his thumb pad against the underside of his jaw, tilting his chin up. He inhales sharply when Kylo leans in-- Hux expects him to either drain him of his life brutally or kiss him and he’s not sure which is more terrifying. Kylo’s bark of laughter is low and hollow, “You smell amazing covered in my blood.”

 

Hux flicks his tongue out over his parted lips, finding them still smudged thick with sticky blood. He swallows the iron down slowly and wonders how Kylo knows it's his and not the blood of the thirty bodies in the room with them.

 

“It’s only mine. From from when you tore your gloves off to fire your ridiculous over-designed blaster.” Kylo dips his head down and drags his tongue across Hux’s lips, his low appreciative hum vibrates between their snugly slotted bodies straight to the bottom of Hux’s spine.

 

Kylo’s hunger is contagious-- both of their mouths are shaking as they press firmly over Hux’s. The light cellophane ripple of blood tinged saliva crosses Hux’s lips, over his teeth, sinking into his gums and spiking harsh across his tongue. He hates that he’s willingly sucking Kylo’s tongue into his mouth, relishing the bitter copper tang from the tip. 

 

Hux registers the faint ringing of an alarm being sounded and breaks away. Security has been alerted, more squadrons are on their way.

 

“We have to go.” Hux pushes them off the wall and threads his fingers through Kylo’s, leading them through the ruined apartment towards the demolished doorway.

 

“Where? How?” Kylo asks looking quizzically between them at their twined hands.

 

“Don’t you have transport? A ship?” Hux looks into the empty hallway and leads them toward the nearest exit.

 

“Nothing that isn’t tracked by the New Republic. Where are we going?” Kylo turns the corner trailing behind Hux, both of them padding stealthily through the dim corridors.

 

“That'll have to do.” Hux pauses as the corridor intersects with another empty hallway and tugs Kylo in his wake, blaster now in his other ungloved hand. "You trained with Snoke, you’re as much a part of the First Order as I am. We’re going back to headquarters. Where else would we go?"

 

Kylo jerks his hand free and comes to a completely standstill, “Did you miss everything that just happened. Snoke. Wanted. One. Of. Us. Dead. Clearly there won’t be room for both of us under his rule.”

 

“Who said anything about saying under Snoke’s rule.” Hux looks back over his shoulder and reaches out, his hand creased with dried flaking blood. If there is one thing Kylo knows it’s power and the potential influence it holds over anyone. Hux has powerful hands.

 

He says it like it’s inevitable. His words full of promises-- _come with me, rule with me. The galaxy could be ours, together._ Kylo knows that things like rulership and the Force, once harnessed tend to possess you right back. They key is balance. He looks between them at Hux’s open hand. Extended without obligation.

  
Kylo takes the offering and they run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are two heavy handed references to American Psycho cause why not. 
> 
> there may be a continuation of this verse at a later date.


	2. Rules of Fair Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux has questions and gets an unorthodox answer. Not that he should have expected anything less from Kylo Ren.

“How does it work?” Hux never meant to ask, or sound so interested or forward when he did. But his question has Kylo dropping the small metallic ball he had been manipulating between his fingers into his pocket and walking up silky smooth and smirking.

 

“Walk with me.” Kylo turns away from the bustling command center and heads for the viewport at the end of the long walkway, a spectacular view of the Starkiller Base below draped with the background of pointed starlight. 

 

Hux has to keep up when Kylo takes the lead, his long strides kicking out his extravagant black satin robes, the passing personnel only asking if Senator Ben Organa is a prisoner of war once they’re well past normal hearing range.

 

“They think I’m your prisoner.” Kylo looks around the bridge, all eyes averted when they realize he’s turned to watch them.

 

“Well, you have to admit, it is a bit unusual. A well liked New Republic senator willingly boarding a First Order destroyer. After allegedly killing twenty six people and leaving the scene with a sworn enemy, who is now being called the _Capital City Slayer_. Some of them might even know I was there to kill you. Some of them might think you have me under mind control.”

 

Kylo stops them when they reach the open alcove, his shoulder in line with but not touching Hux’s-- now clothed in his sharp First Order dress uniform. General stripes at his wrist, greatcoat draped uselessly over his shoulders.

 

“Depending on your definition of mind control,” Kylo starts smoothly, turning his head to soften his voice, “they might be right.”

 

Hux has a moment of panic, wondering if Kylo could do that-- change his mind without him knowing. That was his job as a senator, weaving stories, sounding sympathetic and rallying people to his every want and whim. The thought isn’t as outlandish as Kylo’s sarcastic lilt intended until he shifts and sees the playful amusement in Kylo’s eyes and the teasing curl of his lips.

 

“You would know it if I was manipulating you, General.” Kylo looks away from Hux, watching a storm swirl over the northern outpost on the base, “and as I recall it was you who offered me your hand. Not the other way around. And you were all too willing to sweep me away from the insidious New Republic.”  

 

“Do you do this often?” Kylo hums, breaking his stare into space to catch Hux’s inquisitive raised eyebrow.

 

“What harbor prisoners? Have casual conversations with them? Let them stay at my side on the Command Bridge on my flagship?”

 

“No. Start affairs.” Kylo states matter-of-factly. Like it hadn’t been a heat of the moment mistake they had both made on Hosnia. And again on the short transport flight into First Order space. “I wasn’t aware I was your prisoner, General.”

 

“No, I don’t make a habit of casual fraternization. And you aren’t.” Hux exhales slowly, clearly choosing his next words carefully, “You are unfortunately a prisoner of war to the First Order. For now. Despite your loyalties to Snoke, you are a well known Republic sympathizer and it will be easier to reach our goals if no one is the wiser.”

 

“That is a pity,” Kylo grins into his words like a predatory shark, “Be mindful General, those are your goals, not mine.”

 

“The end is still the same, though.” The implied _we both want Snoke out of the way_ , goes unspoken for both of them.

 

“Different means to the same end, then.”

 

Hux nods, his chin pointed towards Starkiller, the base looking distantly peaceful now that the storm has moved out of view.

 

“Well, it’s a shame you’ll have to remain perfectly still for this then,” Kylo drawls cryptically.

 

“For what?” Hux tenses. He doesn’t like surprises.

 

“Do you miss it?”

 

“Miss what?” Hux frowns, “Stop being purposely evasive, Ren.”

 

Kylo’s amusement at Hux’s frustration is apparent when his eyes crinkle at the corner, “Intimacy. I know at some time before you went undercover. Before you were New Republic General Hux-- or First Order General Hux you must have had it. Maybe as a young officer?” Kylo’s lips slip into a deeper sly smile, “No.That’s not it.  At the Academy, then. Young and still learning.”

 

Hux can feel the warm static pressure of someone touching the frayed edges of his memories, not prying, listening in and reading them like a conversation half heard and finished with only hints at their framework, “Did you let him touch you? Is that really the last time someone touched you, Hux? Properly and inappropriately?”

 

Hux turns, face flushing, brows knitted sternly to protest, “No, don’t look at me. Stay as you are.” Kylo snarls quietly, his voice a cutting hiss against the slack footfalls of troopers passing down the corridor behind them.

 

“And I can tell that it’s the truth. I can feel the way you were about to lie-- smoothly by all accounts. But a lie none the less.”

 

“But answer me this. And don’t touch, don’t look. They’ll see.” Kylo raises his chin and looks passed the carved out ice planet into the void between the stars, “Do you miss it?”

 

“Yes.” His answer is met with silence. Silence that seems drawn out forever, into the stars and back before he hears Kylo’s voice again.

 

“And you want to know what it’s like-- The Force?”

 

Hux swallows and sets his shoulders, he knows any admission will make him weak, he hates surrendering. Giving Kylo what he wants so easily will only be akin to an unexpected right hook to his ribs. He does it anyway.

 

“Yes.”

 

The air is still in his lungs and the smirk he can feel growing across Kylo’s face feels more like triumphant pride than anything else.

 

“Just stand. Don’t move. Don’t touch me. Don’t even look at me. You know I can hold you if I want, but I don’t want to do that. I want you stay there. Still. Because you want to.” Kylo orders, his voice too soft, a voice used to making manipulative suggestions and not commands. “Can you do that for me General?”

 

Hux exhales slowly and presses his lips together into a tight flat line. Giving up control. To Kylo. The brutal murders and obvious volatility aren’t why he feels like turning on his heel and walking away. He could easily have his personal guard come and confine Kylo to a set of quarters on the opposite side of the ship from his own.

 

 _Yes_ , Hux thinks to himself quietly-- as if whispering his own thoughts will keep them from himself, that the reason he aches to leave is because he really doesn’t want to. The tension in the pit of his stomach and heat flush rising across his cheeks and up his throat are only a reminder of how much he wants to surrender.

 

He thinks he’s better than this-- _game_ . Hux doesn’t play childish manipulative games like a weak Republic politician. He clenches his fist tight at his side and recalls the raw power-- the way Kylo was able to hold fifteen men while bleeding out and fifteen guns were pointed at his head. And the thoughts-- the ones that made Hux a general at his young age creep in. You’re better than him. More restraint, poise and power. He can prove to Ren, to everyone that he’s capable of anything. Especially something as paltry as this _challenge_ Kylo is presenting him with.

 

“Yes.”

 

“I can feel your wavering indecision.” Kylo chuckles lowly, “I can feel you. Your heart beat is quickening. Your eyes dilating. The tension in your muscles and jaw. That loose feeling of falling in your lower abdomen. I can feel it all. Your heat and how you never let anyone else in to experience that. You can’t hide it from me. Can you feel me?”

 

“No.” Hux lies, the easy half truth he knows Kylo is aware of being an incomplete admission. Hux can feel something scratching for entrance at the back of his mind. Begging to be let in. Like a low wind whistle as the big bad wolf whines to be let in before devouring his prey head first and whole.

 

“Nothing? Not the way I want, so badly, to reach out and touch you, the tension in my fingers, aching to press in between yours. To feel the sweat beading in your palm. My thumb grazing over the thin skin of your wrist. You can’t feel my heat, not unlike your own, aching for you?”

 

“Oh. I--” Hux opens his mouth and lets his eyes slip shut, and the pin prick feeling of blood loss takes over. Except instead of feeling less-- he feels everything. He can see the way Kylo sees the universe for a fraction of a moment. The way space bends around him like an impossible parlour trick. He can see the colours flying passed his eyes-- basic particles in synch with each other, some slow, some faster than he can comprehend. Everything, the entire universe at his fingertips to command with a simple thought. And all he manages, opening his eyes is a weak, breathless, “Oh.”

 

He isn’t sure if the wetness pricking the corners of his eyes is his own or Kylo’s but it doesn't matter, because he can hear Kylo’s unspoken voice-- a low slithering melody in his head.

 

_Can you feel me now?_

 

 _Yes._ No sense in telling lies or half truths now.

 

_Can you feel me reaching in, under your coat, unbuttoning your shirt, my hands on your chest._

 

A light pressure snakes around his shoulders, like an echo reaching under his skin and moving rabbit-quick through his veins alongside his blood.

 

 _Yes_.

 

_My nails digging in, pinching your nipples. So sensitive._

 

Hux clamps his jaw shut, swallowing around a soft yelp in his throat when the feels the keen cut of Kylo’s phantom fingers grating over his chest.  

 

_Do you like it?_

 

Hux isn’t sure. For once in his life, the most sure man in the galaxy feels like his world is being turned upside down as he stands motionless observing an entire fleet at his command. Such a simple question with a simple answer and Hux isn’t sure if he doesn’t know or if he can’t whisper what he wants quiet enough to forget about it later.

 

_Yes._

 

_I can smell you too, from here. You smell so good. Like juniper berries and mint. You taste like that too. When I kissed you before. I can still taste you on my tongue if I try. Your breath like the best parts of a cold winter chill. Wonderful._

 

Hux considers that he’s never been told what he tastes like before and recalls their kiss, _you remind me of copper ore and heat._ Hux can feel Kylo’s surprised laughter.

 

_I had just killed thirty people. Blood was everywhere._

 

 _Twenty six. I did manage four._ Hux corrects quickly, ready for more of what Kylos offering, the tension in his legs and arms loosening as he acclimates to Kylos presence _, What next?_

 

 _Hmm._ Kylo’s voice changes from playful to a wet erotic press Hux can feel against his jugular. _Your neck, can you feel it?_

 

 _Oh. Yes._ The pressure of lips opening and nipping at the underside of his jaw makes him shiver and without warning his open mouth-- panting, is covered and he can taste Kylo again. Hot heated tongue flicking against his own, still copper tinged without the wet coat of blood.

 

Hux can feel the sweat in the creases of his fists, tight at his side as phantom hands press into the edges of his hips, Kylo’s voice a cracked whip whisper against his lips, _I can feel that you want this but I want to hear you say it. Tell me how much you want me. I want to hear it._

 

“I--” Hux grates out audibly hoping no one else can hear them, his breath ragged already. “I want you to fuck me.”

 

_Good._

 

A new set of hands rake up his sides climbing rib by rib as if they were bare, another phantom set of fingers drags in between each notch in his spine slowly-- slowly until he can feel the pressure at the base of his skull. The hands that had been at his hips snake around to cup his ass and the pressure he’s longed for starts in slow and easy. Like one slick finger pressed into his prostate just right.

 

_Can you feel me there? Is it good?_

 

_Yes. So good._

 

Another hand wraps around the base of his hard cock-- up to four sets of fingers now and Hux has never been so grateful to be at the mercy of anyone ever-- much less a Force user.

 

_You can feel me fucking you? Right here in front of everyone? For anyone to see if you don’t stay completely still?_

 

_Aah. Don’t stop. Please for the love of-- don’t stop._

 

Kylo’s laugh is less steady, Hux can feel how this is changing him too. Wrapping himself around and inside Hux so completely is taking him apart as well.

 

Hux lets out a whisper of a cry-- and he licks his dry lips as what has to be Kylo pushes into him-- the entirety of his cock filling him up so hot and fast he’s sure his entire body has caught fire. He doesn’t dare move his gaze from Starkiller Base but he’s sure if he looks down his body will be awash in flames.

 

 _Tell me what you need._ Hux swears he can feel Kylo’s breath on his neck, in his ear as he fucks into him molasses slow. _Tell me what you want. Do you want it harder._ The pang of Kylo slamming into him nearly pitches him off balance. _Do you want my hand on you faster?_ Kylo’s finger drags over the tip of his cock, twisting down till his fingers touch the base of his cock. Another set of fingers slide in at the base of his belly, just above his cock, splayed wide and firm to hold him in place.

 

 _I want. I want you to fuck me till you come in me._ Hux can feel the wet growl spill over his shoulders from the base of his neck before teeth sink in. _Right here in public. Come for me Kylo._ Fingers wrap around his neck, and tighten as the pace quickens.

 

Hux can hear the difference now-- between the phantom white hot voice in his head crying out and the low whine Kylo keeps just behind his clenched teeth. Just before he comes he swears he can see the popping of a thousand different elements-- atoms exploding right before his eyes.

 

Hux inhales deeply and can feel their mental connection has been broken. He unfurls his hands, glad that his gloves have stopped his nails from digging blood blisters into his palms.

 

Hux smooths the fine sheen of sweat from his forehead back into his still perfectly neat hair. He’s surprised to find it untouched-- even though he know’s Kylo never laid a hand on him. He glances over and finds Kylo’s gaze hazy and distant and his low gasps sucked between flushed lips in uneven gulps.

 

“Kylo,” Hux hates the static fuzz he feels over his tongue, teeth and lips  when the words leave his mouth.

 

Kylo turns to face him, wordlessly.

 

“My quarters. Later. We’re going to try this again. but --” Hux pauses, frustrated at the loose smile curling at the crooks of Kylo’s mouth, “what’s so funny, Ren?”

 

“We both just came untouched and you’re already scheduling a do-over? Incredible.”

 

“No. Not a do-over. Next time,” Hux leers, narrowing his eyes, “I’m going to fuck you. Full contact, no invisible sorcery.”

 

Hux curls his lips into a lavish snarl, “And don’t expect this to ever happen again. You may not be my prisoner, but--” Hux gracefully steps in front of Ren, “I’m certainly not yours, either.”

 

Hux’s thick leather heeled boots tap hollow against the polished floor as he exits their viewport alcove toward the command bridge as the comm hidden in the folds of Kylo’s robes chimes. _2-824-21-L, 2100, don’t be late._

 

“Whatever you say General.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited the title because I'm adding more (unplanned) chapters, and this seemed to fit better. 
> 
> find me on [tumblr](http://saintvader.tumblr.com/)


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